


The five senses

by lorinhazuzu



Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorinhazuzu/pseuds/lorinhazuzu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a wallflower and he never thought he had a chance, but all it took was one meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sight

**Author's Note:**

> So it's taken me ages to get this ready, but it's finally reeeady! (Well the first part is anyway)  
> Still annoyed at the lack of italics by the way.

He waits for the bell to go, leaning back against a pillar in the hall, which he seems to shrink into whenever someone walks by too close.

He lets his eyes wonder around distractedly, but whips his head around at the sound of the familiar laughter, eyes focusing on the dark brown hair and wide smile.

The boy is walking with his friends, and Louis instinctively knows that he’s not the only one watching, because everybody is always watching him, eager eyes greedily watching the boy even when he so much breathes. 

Louis wonders if they see the same things he does, the way he’s polite and friendly and always willing to help, how guilty he feels whenever he has to let a girl down easily, brows furrowing and lips pursing when he sees the disappointment in their eyes, how he’s actually slightly clumsy whenever he’s anywhere but the football field, how that lazy look he wears sometimes doesn’t mean he’s tired, but just content.

His eyes linger on his back as they walk away, and he sees the way Harry stops, hesitating before looking around. Louis melts back into his wall of comfort and he watches as Harry looks over him, not noticing the hiding boy before turning back to his friends and walking out.

Louis feels that familiar sensation wash over him: relief and disappointment swirling together low in his stomach, causing his shoulders to slump with some form of invisible burden. He understands of course, that Harry, just like everybody else, doesn’t see him, and that’s okay, kinda. Louis never expected anyone to notice him, so it wasn’t a surprise when they didn’t, he’d stopped feeling upset about it years ago. It’s just a bit different with Harry, because he can make Louis feel things twice as strongly, he wants so much to be noticed, to be seen by Harry…In fact he wants it just about the same amount as he dreads that miracle ever happening.

Unlike Harry however Louis sees him, sometimes it’s like he’s all he ever sees. It’s not like he’s a stalker or anything it’s something a bit more subtle; he’d just happen to look up every time Harry entered a room or walked past him. His eyes would just instinctively find him (even if Louis wasn’t looking for him). It had been like that for years now, and today was no different.  
“You’re not very subtle you know” Zayn tells him, later that day.  
They’ve stopped by Zayn’s locker so he can get his books, and Louis looks up at him startled.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean, you’re not very subtle when you’re staring” Zayn wiggles his eyebrows at him jokingly, but Louis only shrugs, “it doesn’t really matter does it? It’s not like he even knows I exist.”  
“And who’s fault is that?” Zayn asks shutting his locker.  
“Universe’s” Louis says flatly as they start walking towards their class. They have English this morning, thankfully. Some times Louis wishes that was the only lesson he had to go to. He likes English, and he likes reading and he likes analysing and he could go hours doing just that.  
“No it isn’t, you’ve liked him for years, you could just go and talk to him you know, it’s not forbidden or anything.” Zayn says, bringing Louis’ attention back to him.  
Louis rolls his eyes, “I know that”  
“Then why don’t you?”   
“You know why” Louis says quietly ignoring the sad look Zayn’s giving him.  
“You can’t hide from everyone forever” Louis ignores that too, moving around the still empty classroom to get to his seat right at the far corner of the room.

That wasn’t necessarily true either, Louis thought, it’s not like he had been hiding exactly, he just…hadn’t made himself noticed. It came all too easy for him, staying in the shadows, and most of the time, he liked it there better, was more comfortable without people’s attention on him. So what if there were those short moments where Louis fantasised about being noticed by Harry? He’d just shake his head at himself at the ridiculous notion because even if he did notice Louis, he probably wouldn’t like him, and Louis would just end up embarrassing himself. Being invisible was better than being embarrassed any day. 

Or so he told himself. 

Classes go by slowly, English being the only lesson he shares with Zayn as well as Harry, who sits at the front surrounded by his hundred (or so it seems to Louis) of friends. It’s just one of the amazing things about Harry, everybody wants to be his friend, and Harry, Louis thinks, is kind of determined to befriend everybody in the school before his time in it is over. He’s even kind of friends with Zayn. Zayn, of all people.

English is the only class he has really any interest in, the only class where he wishes he could express his opinions. He has so many thoughts running around his head just waiting to be voiced, and his class mates are all involved in a lively debate and he’s sure nobody would even give him a second look were he to say anything.

But.

The thought of speaking up, the mere thought of it makes his heartbeat speed up, his gut filled with this weird, cold, on-the-brink-of-something feeling, and he can feel his face warming up and his hands shake and he’s just glad he’s sitting down because he doesn’t think his legs would be able to support him. And then the discussion is over, and he’s missed his chance again, and though his heart rate goes back to normal, a bitter, disappointed, unaccomplished feeling is left to take the place of the anxiety he was feeling before.

It happens every lesson, Louis thinks he should be used to it by now.

He waits in the Hall for Zayn at lunch, standing awkwardly to the sides of the queue, he’s in year 12, but sixth formers don’t have a common room in this school because a couple of years ago some of the students ‘abused the common room which was a privilege given to them by the school’, so the year after, it became a sort of ICT room.

Most people going into year 12 were angry about the situation and there were a lot of complaining and whining, but the school’s head teacher didn’t change her mind. The lack of common room thing didn’t exactly bother Louis, it was a lot easier to be anonymous when there were more people around. Plus, you can’t exactly miss something you’ve never had.

Looking up, he searches for Zayn, eyes falling onto a curly haired boy instead. 

Harry.

The small smile that grows on the corner of his lips is instinctive, thoughtless, it’s hard for Louis to not smile whenever he sees Harry.  
“You’re a being creepy again”  
Zayn’s familiar voice snaps him out of his Harry induced day-dream.  
“I’m not creepy” Louis weakly protests, “he doesn’t even know I’m looking”  
“That…still counts as creepy. Sorry Lou” he teases, smiling.  
“Shall we get going then?” Louis nods, and they head out, after getting their food, to that corridor in between the English and Art departments that is on the first floor and is always empty.

They sit on the windowsill, leaning back on the wall opposite to each other, Zayn tells him about this art project he’s working on. Louis doesn’t understand half of what he’s saying, can’t really picture whatever it is that Zayn’s trying to describe, but he smiles anyway, because Zayn sounds excited, and Louis already knows that whatever Zayn’s doing – making, it’ll be great, it always is, though Zayn is often quite hard on himself.  
“Have you noticed” Zayn starts a few minutes of silence later, “how much worse this school’s food is getting by the day?” Louis grins humorously, nodding in agreement.  
“And we still have a year and a half to go” Louis says watching as Zayn grimaces in response.  
“Thanks for that mate. Really”  
“Oh yeah, no problem” Louis says, smiling mischievously at Zayn, who only shakes his head at Louis.

They have a free lesson after break, but they don’t move from their place. Instead Zayn takes out his sketchbook, and Louis opens up the new book he’s reading. The hour goes by quickly like this, and sooner then Louis expected, the bell is ringing. Louis sighs, looking at his book sadly, so close to being finished he’s sure he won’t hear a thing in his next lesson, too busy wondering about how the ending will go.

He looks around the once empty corridor, his eyes catching a flash of curly hair, and mouth stretched wide, teeth showing, before it’s gone, hidden by a wall of students.

Football is not exactly Louis’ thing. He likes watching it well enough, but it’s never something he’d ever consider doing. Zayn is no more interested in it than Louis, but they mutually and silently agreed over a year ago to attend the games. Though they don’t talk about it they know that the only reason why they go at all, is for Louis to watch Harry playing, and Zayn to watch Perrie, the blonde cheerleader he’s liked for ages. Louis wonders whether Zayn knows how much of a hypocrite he is, when he keeps telling Louis to ‘just go and talk to Harry’.

They both take their seats, the place is reasonably full. It always surprises Louis that people even go to this events at all, it’s not like people are bursting with school pride and team spirit or whatever, not in their school at least. Louis is absolutely sure that the only reason why there are so many people from his school here is Harry. It’s not a farfetched theory at all, considering the reason he’s here.

Safe in the anonymity of numbers, he indulges himself by observing Harry, as he warms up by the sidelines with his team. He doesn’t cheer with the rest as the game starts, but he watches attentively, eyes taking in the little furrow in Harry’s forehead as he concentrates. He tries to keep up with the other players and with what is going on in the game, but his eyes keep stubbornly going back to Harry, finding him surprisingly easily in the middle of so many players.

From what little Louis can tell is going on, he gathers that the other team is not a very good one, because they are having a hard time keeping the ball, whilst his school classmates barely look winded, so it’s not really a surprise when they win.

Louis and Zayn loiter around, watching as everyone around them celebrate, though Louis eye’s are very much glued to the boy being hugged and squished by his team mates, hair sweaty and stuck to his forehead and smile so wide that Louis swears he can see his dimples from here. He wonders if he could ever be the reason for Harry to smile like that, to look so happy… A second later he shakes his head at himself, chiding, and lets himself be pulled by Zayn as they bump-and-dodge into a dozen other hyper teenagers.

If his eyes go back to Harry one last time, no one will ever know.


	2. Hearing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, I've had a couple of people asking me on tumblr whether I'm the same person writing these stories. So just a warning, if you run across my stories on LJ or Tumblr, than it's most probably me. Also I have the same user account, so please check that before accusing me of things.
> 
> Great then! On with the chapter.

It’s Wednesday, a rather unremarkable, uneventful one too, when he meets him, and Louis is pretty sure that this is the first time Harry’s ever even set eyes on him.

He’s late. He had a free lesson this morning and decided to take advantage of it to go to his optician’s appointment, so he could get his new glasses and contacts. Unfortunately it ran a bit late, which brings him to hurriedly walking down the hallways and towards his locker. He is never late, absolutely dreads the idea. Being late means walking into the room when everybody’s already there. Being late means having a bunch of pair of eyes on him, it means pressure and attention he doesn’t want.

He yanks his locker open, clumsily pulling the books he needs out, before slamming it shut again and sprinting, his grip on them however is hazardous at best, so he’s not exactly surprised when one of the books slip and he ends up dropping the rest of them by trying to catch the first. It doesn’t stop him from thinking of every bad word he’s ever heard.

“You okay?” Louis stops his frantic movements momentarily, blinking.  
He recognizes that voice, it’s slow, and grave and it drags and he definitely recognizes that voice, he thinks panicking.

Louis doesn’t think he’s ready for this. Like. Ever.

He looks up, but the boy is already crouching, head bent down as he picks up his papers. And then, he looks up, green eyes focusing on him.

Louis’s stares. He’s been watching this very boy for so long, but it was obviously not long enough for him to notice, just how green his eyes were, but then again he’s never been this close to him either.

Harry tilts his head to the side, probably at the lack at response, before smiling sweetly at him, which Louis wishes he wouldn’t because it’s making his face feel warmer, and he just knows he’s blushing.  
“Hey are you new?” Harry asks curiously, and Louis blinks astonished, because wow, he really is that invisible.  
“No – I. No.” He stutters, quickly taking his things from Harry.  
“Oh” Surprisingly he falls into pace next to Louis.  
Nervously Louis holds his books tight against his chest, chin down, though Harry merely looks at him, smiling brightly.  
“What do you have now?” he asks.  
“English” Louis mumbles, barely able to believe what’s happening. He’s having a conversation with someone who’s not Zayn or his family. More shockingly yet is: he’s talking to Harry.

Granted, he can barely make his one-worded answers loud enough to be heard, but still.  
“English? With Ms Maloney?” Harry sounds surprised now, voice lilting up towards the end of his question.

Louis nods, looking down at his shoes which are making a squeaky noise as he walks, thanks to the outside grounds which are still wet from last night’s storm. The noise sounds very loud in midst of their uncomfortable silence and it makes Louis feel all the more awkward.  
“Oh” There’s something in his voice that makes Louis look up, though he’s not sure what. He’s surprised to see a blush on Harry’s face. He wonders for a second what caused it, but the thought is banished as they finally reach the door to their classroom.

Louis lets Harry go in first, oddly relieved to have Harry with him, when he realizes that unlike what he’d feared, everyone’s eyes and attention are directed towards Harry.

He scurries away to his seat at the back quickly, oblivious to Harry’s eyes; curiously set on him.

They’re studying Jane Eyre. Louis doesn’t mind it much, though he thinks the first few chapters are quite boring. They a given a theme, and told to write a short essay on it.

Louis starts on his immediately, though he’s quickly interrupted by Zayn who sits on the desk next to him.

“Hey Lou” He calls his attention, voice quiet so as to not be overheard by the other students, though Louis doesn’t think it’s likely since they all take ‘get started’ as ‘you can start chatting as loud as you can now’.  
Louis looks sideway at him questioningly.  
“How come you came in with Harry?” He asks and Louis can practically hear the little sly tone of his voice.  
Louis looks down at his desk uncomfortably.  
“I, um. We kind of ran into each other” he says, eyes sneakily taking a look of the mentioned boy when he hears his laughter ring out in the classroom.  
“So you finally talked to him?” Louis can hear the eagerness in his voice and he feels a bit under pressure, a bit like a disappointment.  
“Kinda” he mumbles in reply.  
Zayn arches his eyebrows expectantly as if to say ‘go on’.  
Louis lets out a deep sigh, “I dropped my stuff and he just helped me pick it up”. Before Zayn’s smile can grow any wider he adds “he didn’t even know I go to this school Z. He thought I was a new student.”  
“Oh.” Zayn sounds disappointed. It’s nothing on how Louis feels.

He knew of course, that Harry had never even been aware of his existence, and it wasn’t his fault really, Louis did everything in his power for it to be that way, but he couldn’t help but subconsciously wish that Harry had noticed him, like in some of those stupid sappy romantic stories. Stupid of course.

He doesn’t notice as he slowly packs up, the lingering look said boy throws him as he walks out the room.

At lunch they go back to their empty hallway.  
“My art exam is next week.” Zayn tells him when they’re seated on their windowsill.  
Louis grimaces in sympathy. Unlike normal exams, art exams go on for hours. They spend a whole week doing it, and are excused from all their other lessons.  
“Good luck with that” he smiles.  
Zayn scoffs, “I’ll need it. I swear to God, Ms Henley hates me.”

Louis nods knowingly. Zayn’s spent most of the year complaining about his art teacher. Louis doesn’t blame him, the woman is a terror. He had Ms Henley they year before and he’d spent both his GCSE years absolutely terrified of her.  
“She hates everybody”  
“Damn right” Zayn mumbles angrily.

It must be hard, Louis thinks, liking a subject so much, but hating the teacher so bad. He wrinkles his nose. How conflicting.

They separate once the bell goes, and Louis walks sluggishly towards his next lesson. People are always late for that lesson, especially since its right after lunch, so he doesn’t bother to hurry up.

Law goes by extra slowly, so it’s a relief once the bell goes, signalling the end of the day.

He meets Zayn by his locker, after once again been snapped out of his ‘Harry-daze’ as Zayn calls it.  
“Are you ever going to get over him?”  
Louis shrugs, “I wish”  
“Maybe we should set you up with someone?”  
Louis blanches, looking at Zayn as if he had just pulled off a mask to reveal a complete stranger.  
“You’re kidding right?” he splutters.  
“No. But seriously Lou, hear me out yeah, the best way to get over someone is to find someone new.”  
Louis arches an eyebrow, wanting very much to ask how Zayn knows that when he’s liked the same girl for two years now.  
“And how exactly am I going to do that?” is what comes out of his mouth instead.  
“It’s not like anybody knows I exist in this school, and I actually prefer it like that, thanks.  
“Not here in school obviously. But maybe, we should go out, try to meet some people yeah?”  
Louis thinks about it. Going out doesn’t seem so bad. The whole meeting people thing is another story.  
“I don’t know” he hesitates.  
“Come on Lou, we can go somewhere in some other town and if you don’t like it we can just go home and you can forget about the whole sordid affair” Zayn grins.  
Louis takes a deep breath and against his better judgement, he agrees.

That’s how on that Friday night, Louis finds himself being dragged out to this house party a friend of Zayn’s is throwing. Louis only agrees because Zayn’s told him this friend of his – Louis thinks his name is Ed – is a bit older and lives in Manchester, so it’s not very likely that there will be anyone he knows there. Not that he knows a lot of people. Still.

Louis drives them there because Zayn is a lazy ass and he hasn’t got his driving license yet. Louis doesn’t mind it so much, especially since it’ll give him an excuse not to drink.

When they get there, the place is already full and the house seems to be pulsing to the sound of music. Louis can feel the vibrations of it from his toes to the tip of his fingers.

It makes him nervous.

“I’m not sure about this Zayn” he hesitates.  
“Oh come on Lou. This’ll be fun, be brave yeah?” It’s easy for you to say, Louis thinks to himself, Zayn never really had problems talking or interacting with people, he just chose not to, mostly. 

Zayn slaps him playfully on the back, smiling encouraging at him but Louis can’t help but snort. He was the farthest thing from brave.

He’s dragged inside the house, Zayn’s grip almost painful on his wrist as if he knows Louis might just flee at any minute, which Louis admittedly thinks is true.

What follows is a series of awkward events and meetings. Zayn introduces him to Ed first and Louis is surprised to find he actually likes him, even if you know, all Louis said to him was a mumbled ‘hi’ that Louis is sure Ed didn’t hear.

Like a good host, Ed introduces them to a few other people, before leaving them, but no matter how many looks he gets from Zayn or how many times Louis is told to relax, Louis just feels out of place, the whole ‘fish out of water’ analogy doesn’t even come close to an accurate description of how he feels.

He sneaks away from the group some painful fifteen minutes later, looking for some place in the house where there aren’t so many people, dancing and shouting and bumping into him every two seconds. Louis has faith that such a place exists, he needs it to.

He ends up in the kitchen, the place where the drinks are not at, weirdly but thankfully, meaning it’s pretty much empty except for the person who Louis can’t quite see due to him being hidden behind the fridge door.

Ignoring the guy who Louis is pretty sure just hit his head on the top of the fridge, if the noise he just heard is anything to go by, Louis leans back against the wall next to the kitchen door, letting out a long sigh, closing his eyes in relief. It’s official; he’s an anti-social freak.

The music is still loud from here, but strangely muffled even though the kitchen door is wide open, and Louis feels his throbbing headache stop slowly.

“Louis?” Louis turns around confused, eyes widening in surprise once he sees who it is. It’s Harry, and apparently he knows his name.  
“Harry? What-What are you doing here?”  
“The person who’s throwing this party is a friend of mine.” Harry shrugs, smiling in a way that was entirely too adorable for Louis’ slightly inebriated mind.  
“Ed?”  
Harry grins, “yeah, you know him?”  
“Just met him. He’s a friend of Zayn’s”  
He watches as Harry’s eyebrows furrow, clenching his hands tightly as his sides at the sudden desire to reach out and touch, he never wanted that before. Was always happy with just seeing the boy from time to time.  
“How come we kind of have the same friends, but we’re not friends?” The tone of his voice and the way he’s still frowning makes Louis think that Harry is somehow disappointed about the fact. But really, what does Louis know? He wasn’t even aware that Harry knew his name.

A shrug is the only response he gives to Harry’s question.

There’s a moment of silence. Louis shifts his weight awkwardly as Harry watches him, head tilted to the left, body swaying slightly. It’s only then that Louis realizes Harry’s drunk.

A sudden toothy smile breaks out on Harry’s face, and Louis just looks at him perplexed.  
“Well we can be friends now!” Harry says enthusiastically, and Louis doesn’t really know how to answer, having never even considered such a possibility.  
“Come on, lets get something to drink. There’s nothing in this kitchen, Ed is so weird.” Harry seems to be mostly talking to himself towards the end of his sentence but he still motions for Louis to follow him. 

Louis does, because really, how could he say no?

Harry offers him a drink and Louis knows he should’ve stopped drinking a while ago, is pretty sure he has stopped drinking for a while now, so he doesn’t really understand why he has a half drunk bottle of beer in his hands.

In front of him, Harry is babbling on happily. Louis finds it a bit hard to understand him, both because of the loud music and chatter going on around them, and because Louis keeps getting distracted by looking – staring at Harry’s face.

He’s a bit of a wall flower, only has one friend and spends most of his time reading, book after book after book, preferring to escape to a world where things can be magical and exciting rather than living his own very average, very ordinary life. But this, he has to admit he never really saw coming. He’s at a party, full of people and loud music, half drunk, and talking to Harry.

Harry.

“He’s very cute really” Harry says, snapping Louis out of his reverie.   
“Who is?” He blurts out before blushing at how eager he sounds and the fact that he probably should’ve known what Harry is talking about.  
“Dusty” Harry slurs, grinning madly, body swaying from side to side.  
Louis just feels confused.  
“He likes it when I pet him, he’s just like me! Cute cat, kitty, kitty” he babbles on, and Louis can’t help but feel amused.

If he’d ever contemplated actually talking to Harry – which he hadn’t, he’d never would’ve imagined that the conversation would happen at some crazy stranger’s party and that it would be about cats.

Louis thinks it’s adorable. He’d always known that Harry had never let the whole popularity thing get to his head. Actually the reason why he is so popular is because he’s just so sweet to everyone, but this definitely proves it. Harry is a softie.  
And a weirdo. (Even by Louis’ standards).

Louis grins amused with the thought.  
“He likes to play with my fingers..”  
Louis bites his lip, trying to stop himself from laughing, he’d never expected to feel like this with Harry. So…not awkward. Although maybe that might be only because Harry’s so smashed.  
“I’ll show you a picture” He exclaims exuberantly, brandishing his phone from his pocket, stumbling drunkenly a couple of steps, and then shoving said phone at Louis’ face.

Louis blinks, trying to focus his eyes on the screen of the phone. Harry’s background picture shows him holding a cute gray cat with blue eyes, cheeks squished against each other, an adorable grin on Harry’s face.  
Louis smiles tenderly looking at it.  
“You’re pretty” at those words Louis looks up, confused, and to his surprise he finds that Harry is still looking at him. Not behind him, or next to him, but at Louis.

Well it is very loud in the room, Louis defends his clearly very-out-of-control imagination.  
“Sorry?!” He shouts at Harry. The level of noise has been steadily going up by the hour and it is very hard to catch what Harry’s saying.  
“You’re pretty!” this time, Harry shouts, lopsided smile on his face.

Flushing, Louis decides to attribute the comment on the fact that Harry is drunk.

Very drunk apparently.

Before he can think of something to answer, Harry is dragged away by who Louis assumes is a friend of his, shouting about how he’s ‘been looking for you for ages mate’

Harry struggles a bit, stumbling, but he’s really too drunk to stop himself being pulled away. Louis just smiles sadly at him, grateful of even the few minutes he had to talk to Harry, especially when he thought it’d never happen.

He turns around looking for Zayn, noticing how unbearable all the noise sounds all of a sudden.

He’s got to drag a very, very drunk Zayn out of the house, later in the night. He buckles him in; listening to Zayn’s weird mumbling. By the time he reaches the driver’s seat Zayn is completely passed out next to him.

Louis tries to concentrate in his driving. It’s hard, when his mind keeps on replaying every little thing Harry said to him that night.

He smiles. For a party, that wasn’t bad at all.


	3. Smell

 

If there’s one thing Louis doesn’t like to do, it’s waking up early. Especially on a Monday.

After dragging himself out of bed, he goes downstairs to get some breakfast.

His sisters are sat around the table, seemingly half asleep still. Their dislike for early mornings are one of the few things he has in common with them. He has his breakfast with Phoebe perched on his lap, his chin resting on her shoulder, saddened by the thought that soon she’ll be too old to want to be picked up or cuddled by her big brother anymore. He kisses each one of them on the cheek, his mum last, wishing them a good day before leaving.

He drives over to Zayn’s to pick him up. The short journey to school is made in silence, Zayn dislikes monday mornings just as much as Louis does. Once they get there he helps Zayn carry all his art stuff to his classroom, he always thought the size of the portfolios were slightly ridiculous.

“Good luck Z” he wishes him.

“Thanks mate” Zayn nods, but he’s obviously distracted, already planning what he’ll be working on first, Louis assumes, so with a wave, he leaves him to go to his first lesson of the day: business.

Business is not so bad; it’s just that he has no interest in it whatsoever. Still he bears with it, sighing quietly while his classmates groan at the fact their teacher’s just given them a whole lot of homework. It’s one of the only times where he feels not so alienated from his classmates.

Break is boring, and also a little lonely, though Zayn texts him a couple of times. Louis has no idea how he actually manages to do that when he’s in the middle of an exam, but he’s grateful for the little sarcastic inputs anyway.

He prepares himself for  the same at lunch. He sits at his usual place, by himself this time. He’s not really expecting to see Zayn around school for the rest of the week.

It’s sunny out, which is not exactly unusual for January, but there’s frost on the ground and because this is England he still has an umbrella on him because even though for now the sky is blue and cloudless, he knows that it changes in a matter of minutes.

At the end of the day he waits for Zayn in the empty hall, sat on a table with his back turned to the fast walking students all eager to get out of school. He’s got his earphones plugged in, and the volume is turned up high, and it’s not hard to ignore everybody else.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about that party, replaying everything over and over, the image of Harry’s smile engraved in his mind as painfully clear as hot iron on skin.

The warning he gets to the fact he’s not alone anymore is the musky, minty-sweet smell that suddenly invades his senses. He turns his head to look around behind him, to see Harry leaning forward over Louis’ shoulder. Startled at the proximity he leans back on his seat, voice failing him once again.

“H-Harry?” he pulls the earphones out quickly, not wanting to miss whatever Harry says.

“Hi Louis” he greets, and there’s a sheepish smile on his face that Louis doesn’t quite understand.

“That’s a good song” he nods at the ipod on Louis’ hands, and Louis blushes even though the complement is not exactly directed at him.

When Louis doesn’t do anything except look at him, Harry clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Er, look, I wanted to apologise for the other day…” he starts, fumbling with his words in a way that’s very familiar to Louis.

“Oh.” He wonders what he’s apologizing for.

“You know, er, at the party. I was, um, really drunk, and I can’t remember if I said anything bad, but if I did say anything, like, I’m sorry.

“You didn’t” Louis blurts.

“Right” they stare at each other for a moment, and Louis regretfully realises how awkward this is. He thinks wistfully of a couple of nights ago, when it had been so exciting talking to Harry; but also so comfortable.

 

And then to his surprise, instead of leaving, Harry sits down next to him, adorable smile on his face.

“So why are you still here?” he asks curiously.

Louis can feel his cheeks warming from Harry’s gaze. He looks down, licking his lips nervously. It’s harder now, he realises; talking to Harry. When it’s not in the dark and there isn’t so much noise around, because those things had acted a bit like a safety net for him, and he feels uncomfortably bare in the light of day now.

“I, um, waiting for Zayn” he says, voice soft and low, eyes flickering around nervously, though all he wants to do is fix them on Harry’s face.

“You drive him home?”

Louis nods in response, deciding he should probably just try to speak as least as possible, because it’s always embarrassing when he does.

“Oh” Harry frowns for a second, and though he prefers it when Harry is smiling, he thinks the way Harry’s lips purse is quite beautiful.

He watches as Harry bites his lips, nose wrinkling as his head tilts to the side. He doesn’t say anything for a second; instead he pops a tic-tac in his mouth as he silently appraises Louis.

It’s nerve-wrecking.

“Are you guys..together?” He asks slowly, leaning forward slightly to catch Louis’ eye.

Louis sucks in a breath startled, he can smell Harry’s breath, he’s so close; It’s sweet and fresh and cool and it doesn’t do anything for the way his cheeks are burning in embarrassment, having never expected to be asked that question. Especially not by Harry. Oh god.

“What?” he chokes out, wishing very much he was anywhere else at this moment.

Harry is still looking at him curiously, though he seems to take pity on him once he sees Louis’ reaction.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” he smiles apologetically.

Still, there’s not much he can say at the moment, voice clogged in his wind pipes.

“I-I should go” he stands up, hands fluttering around as he gathers his stuff.

“Wait, hey I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it” Harry looks at him in surprise, probably at his sudden rush to leave, Louis thinks.

“No it’s fine. I should go wait outside” It surprises him that in his hurry to leave, he doesn’t stutter, but he’s thankful for it, just wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

Harry however doesn’t seem to understand that, standing up and sprinting to catch up with him.

“Wait, I’ll come with” he smiles lop-sided and the sight makes Louis’ stomach flutter, like there’s something cold flickering around inside him, and causing goose bumps to erupt on his skin. He suddenly wishes for that line that separated the two of them, so he could back to watching Harry from afar without having Harry’s attention suddenly zeroing on him. And yes, he is quite aware that’s a very cowardly thought.

“How was the rest of you week-end then?” Harry asks, and Louis is relieved he let the subject of Zayn drop, but he’s also blushing again because what could he possible say, that Harry wouldn’t find incredibly boring and weird? Harry was goofy and happy and exciting and Louis wasn’t. He spent his week-ends reading or watching movies or looking after his little sisters. Harry spent his week-ends going out on dates or with friends, hanging out together in that cool easy way Louis thinks he’ll never understand, and he’s well aware of the differences between the two of them.

“It was alright” he mumbles, heaving a relieved sigh once he sees Zayn walking in their direction, gaze moving from Louis to Harry and back again.

“I…I have to go” he says quickly opening the door of the car.

Before he can slam it shut however Harry says, “ok. See you tomorrow then?” smiling hopefully at Louis, and for the life of him, he can’t find it in himself to say no. So instead he nods, switching on the car once Zayn gets in.

Harry throws a quick “hey Zayn” before smiling sweetly at Louis, and stepping back away from the car.

Louis drives away with the image of Harry popping another tic-tac in his mouth in his rear mirror.


	4. Touch Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was getting a bit too long so I decided to split it into two. Yay.

The five senses Touch Pt 1  
Summary: Louis is a wallflower and he never thought he had a chance, but all it took was one meeting.

Touch Pt1

Tuesday is much like Monday was. The day is still sunny, still frosty and still lonely.

Louis watches as Zayn hurries away, eager to get back to his exam, (apparently one week is just not enough time, or so Zayn had complained the whole way to school).

It’s not like he minds it, being by himself. He’s always been a solitary person, either because of his shyness, or because he’s simply like that naturally, he doesn’t know.

Still, sometimes so much solitude makes him feel lonely, and today is one of those days. Sighing and rubbing his hands together to warm them up, he starts towards the school. He’s got business this morning, and he’s very much aware that he completely screwed up the homework he handed in the day before, (too busy daydreaming about shining green eyes and loud-and-slightly-weird laugh) so he’s not eager to get it back.

Honestly it’s not like he doesn’t try (yesterday being an exception), but the whole subject just goes way over his head. He tries, he really does, but his eyelids feel awfully heavy as Mr Brown goes on and on, and oh my god, on and on.

It’s only towards the end of the lesson that the nagging starts. He complains and complains about how none of them are putting any effort into their work.

“This is your AS year. You can’t just wait a week before your exams to start really putting some work in” he walks around the room handing their work back, never stopping to draw breath, “we’re halfway through the year, and this is still the kind of work you’re handing in. If you really think you can pass at the level you are now, you’re all very much mistaken” he fixes them with his stern gaze before moving towards Louis, the last one to get his homework back, “even you Louis, I expected more from you,” he moves back towards his desk just as the bell goes.

Face hot, Louis blinks away the tears of embarrassment, angry that such simple words can reduce him to such a mess. He hates hearing his name being called out, and the attention it draws. Hates having to answer during the register. Hates it even more when a teacher calls him when not strictly necessary, and in front of his classmates.

Feeling paranoid, he hurries out of the classroom, feeling as if everyone’s eyes are on him, judging him, even though he knows, knows nobody is looking at him, that nobody cares, but it still doesn’t stop him from running away, heart beating unevenly in his chest in expectation, as if he’s being chased by a silent being that’s just waiting to pounce.

He’s such a freak.

He enters the toilet grateful that it’s empty, and rubs a trembling hand down his face, whilst looking at himself in the mirror and absolutely hating what he sees: a pale, scared and pathetic looking boy.

He’s got private study now, but he skips it, escaping away from people and their judging eyes. He locks himself in his car, hating how cold everything in it is.

He reaches out to switch on the heater, breath coming out in cloudy puffs in front of him. He sighs contentedly once the warm air hits his face, and leans his head back on his seat.

Once the bell goes in time for his English lesson, he opens his eyes again, gathers his courage and turns off the heater. It’s only when he feels little white cold dots falling on his face that he notices the change in scenery.

Everything is coated with a light dust of snow that makes him smile, blinking away the snowflakes stuck on his eyelashes.

His footsteps make dark shapes on the ground as he walks, and snow swirls around his face, the cold wind feels biting on his cheeks.

Feeling calmer, he walks back inside, sad to leave when it looks so pretty outside.

He’s one of the first to arrive, the room is still mostly empty, and he sits down in his usual place, immediately getting his books out of his bag. He’s barely read two whole pages when he feels a warm hand setting on his shoulder.

“Lou?”

Startled, he jumps in his seat a bit, blinking at the shock of being pulled out of the story so suddenly.

“Harry” he breathes out when he realises who’s just called him, face flushing a dark red seconds later, as he notices that Harry’s hand is still on his shoulder.

“You okay?” he’s grinning, that toothy smile that almost melts Louis into a puddle.

“Y-yeah” he clears his throat, “you scared me a bit.”

“Sorry” sheepishly, he smiles before taking his place on the desk next Louis, which is usually where Zayn seats.

“Where’s Zayn then?” Harry leans back on his seat, perfect example of confidence while Louis is tense, shoulders stiff and heart doing somersaults inside his chest.

“Art exam” he mumbles, embarrassed by his own reaction.

He eyes the boy from the corner of his eye, the long lean body stretched out on the seat, arms crossed. Gulping, he looks up, face burning as he sees the knowing smile and arched eyebrow on Harry’s face.

“Don’t those last, like, ages?”

Louis hurries to answer, thankful Harry decided not to get into the subject of his staring.

“A week” which is not exactly what Louis would call ages, but then again he thinks his three hours exams are long, so.

Harry grimaces, nose wrinkling, and Louis smiles softly at the sight. “Sounds awful,” he says, “especially with Ms Henley as the teacher”.

Louis nods in agreement and it’s his turn to grimace.

“You don’t like her either?” Harry smiles amused.

“Does anyone?” the words escape him as if on instinct, and he immediately feels a bit guilty. He’s sure there’s someone out there who likes Ms Henley, just not, you know, any of the students.

He’s pulled out from his thoughts by the sound of the familiar laughter, and he blushes, embarrassed but secretly pleased at being the one to make Harry laugh, when before he was the one watching from afar.

“You’ve had her before?” curious, Harry leans in towards Louis, unknowingly making the older boy’s heartbeat pick up. “Erm” he clears his throat, “yeah.. I took GCSE art.”

“Hey, me too!” Harry grins and Louis watches the transformation, from really confident and cool to a really adorable and young looking boy. In his mind’s eye he can almost see himself stumbling as he struggles to keep up with the constant changes.

“Yeah, I know, we were in the same class” as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he regrets them, seeing the way Harry’s smiles falters, lips pursing in a frown.

“Oh..how come I didn’t see you?”

Noticing the frustrated tone in Harry’s voice, Louis decides to answer truthfully, “not a lot of people do” he shrugs ashamed, and turning to face the harried looking teacher as she walks in, apologizing for being late and cutting off whatever protest had just started to come out of Harry’s lips.

Once class is finished, they leave the classroom together, walking side by side towards the hall. Their shoulders brush and bump against each other’s as they walk and Louis stares at the ground, wanting to hide his blush from the younger boy.

They both look around at the sound of Harry’s name being called out, eyes falling on a blonde boy standing a few feet away from them and waving his arms over his head to catch Harry’s attention.

“You coming?” he shouts over the loud chatter of the crowded hallway. Harry shakes his head, “I’ll catch up with you later!” he shouts back, his grave voice being easily heard over the noise.

Niall nods, grin still in place, and his eyes fall on Louis’. His grin widens and Louis quickly looks away, cheeks burning.

He remembers watching Harry and Niall’s easy friendship, envious. Remembers how many times he’s wished he was more like Niall, and those few, secret times when he’d wished he was him. As Niall looks him over, he feels like all of those thoughts are in the open, those shameful wishes, written on his forehead and showing in his eyes.

“Lou?”

Louis startles. There’s a gentle grip on his forearm that makes him regret wearing long sleeves, but there’s warmth sipping from Harry’s hand, through the fabric and into his skin, making a thrill go down his spine.

“You do that a lot don’t you?”

His hand slides down his arm until he’s holding on to his wrist, and Louis is so aware of it he finds it hard to concentrate on what the boy is saying.

“What?”

“You know, get lost in thought” Harry explains, tugging him along, as he calls back greetings towards his friends.

They walk across the hall, Louis stumbling after Harry as he tries to avoid all the eyes he can feel on him. He knows what they’re thinking. They’re wondering what Harry is doing with him, wondering who he is.

The stares feel heavy on his back, and he feels guilty, because what is he doing taking Harry away from his friends?

“You’re doing it again.”

Louis looks at him dazed, “sorry” he apologizes, but Harry only shakes his head, smiling and tugging him further along by his sleeve.

They both get a cheesy, greasy piece of pizza each, and go to pay for it together.

“Hey Harry!” a girl – Cara – shows up from nowhere, grinning at Harry and completely obvious to Louis’ presence, though he’s standing right next to Harry.

She is one of those girls. Very popular, very girly and very blonde. Three things Louis isn’t.

“Oh, hey Cara” Harry’s taken aback at the girl’s sudden appearance, Louis can tell, even though he tries to hide it, sending a quick smile at the girl.

Trying to ignore the disappointed feeling – it feels a bit like an anchor, Louis muses, pulling and weighing him down – he stands awkwardly to the side, not knowing what to do with his arms, and trying to pretend he’s not listening to their conversation even though he’s standing three feet away from them.

He’s not deaf, he can’t help it.

When the girl finally voices the question, which is most likely the reason why she came over, Louis decides it’s time to go.

“I’m free any time” she pushes when Harry hesitates to answer.

Not wanting to know his answer (he already feels queasy enough as it is) he starts walking away, mumbling a barely audible “see you later” at Harry, which he blushes at because, isn’t it a bit presumptuous of him to assume he’ll see Harry later? To assume that Harry will want to see him?

He scurries away, face burning, and he’s just about to push the (escape) door open when he hears Harry calling out his name, followed immediately by a sudden grip on the back of Louis’ jumper that makes him stumble slightly.

“Hey, wait up!” Harry turns him around, and Louis wishes he wouldn’t because now he finds himself facing the hall, and just as he had expected, everyone is staring at him – them, and not many of them bother to be subtle about it.

“Where are you going?” he asks. There’s a frown on his face, but his lips are pulled up into a half smile.

“Erm..” his eyes wander around the place nervously before focusing on Harry once again, “I don’t really have my lunch here” he tells him, watching as Harry’s curious expression morphs into a surprised one, lips parting as a little “oh” escapes them.

“So that’s why I couldn’t find you yesterday” he says in understanding.

 

You were looking for me? is what Louis wants to ask; instead he just stares at Harry, speechless.

“Well,” Harry shakes his head, hand sliding down Louis’ shoulder until he’s holding on to his wrist once again, “where do you have your lunch then?” he pulls him through the door and into the empty hallway, “show me.”

Louis nods, still unable to say anything. He guides Harry towards the place by the window where Zayn and he usually spend their breaks.

He sits down on the window sill, dropping his bag by his feet and looking up at Harry embarrassed, because he realises that Harry, popular-and-friendly Harry, would probably rather be out there with his friends, having fun and being loud. This little, quiet and abandoned place is as far from what Harry is used as it could be, and it only serves to emphasise how different they are.

Without saying a word, Harry mimics him, and they sit opposite each other. Harry looks comfortable, as if he’s absorbing the new atmosphere. Louis is anything but.

He shouldn’t feel so nervous, so jittery. The place is familiar, the whole setting is; except for Harry. Harry is… new. Foreign, though not unwelcome.

Louis thinks he doesn’t belong to such a quiet, empty, silent place. Harry belongs to rowdy crowds, full of laughter and adoring friends who are always willing to cheer him up, keep him laughing. Harry feels different here with Louis, almost like his usual brilliance has been dulled down to a gentle glow.

They don’t talk at all. Louis takes his book out and starts reading, just like he would, were he with Zayn. Louis can hear a gentle sound buzzing slightly in the background and he knows the sound is coming from Harry’s earphones. He has one of them in, the other hanging down his front. Louis takes a peek at him from the top of his book every once in a while, still finding it hard to believe that Harry, Harry Styles, is sitting there in front of him, with him. He sees the same thing every time he does: Harry, looking at him with gentle, smiling green eyes, watching him with something akin to affection. Louis hopes he’s not being stupidly naïve to think that.

It’s a startling, unwelcomed intrusion when the bell goes and the quiet vanishes gradually, parallel to the way the humming noise of chatter grows slowly louder.

Louis sets his books down on his lap, looking expectantly at Harry, but Harry only looks back at him, blinking owlishly. They watch each other silently, and Louis leans back against the wall, head tilting to the side in confusion. A few minutes later, the hallway quietens again, and they are back to the previous silence, but still Harry doesn’t move.

“Don’t… don’t you have class now?”

Harry shakes his head, “don’t you?”

“No”

They watch each other for a few more seconds before “I usually spend my free time in the music department”.

Louis hums, interested. Everybody knows that Harry sings, it’s not exactly a secret, it’s just another one of the reasons why he’s so liked, because he’s so damn good at it.

“Do you, you can go. If you want, I mean.” He gets out, disappointed in advance.

“You’ll come too?” there’s an enthusiastic grin growing on Harry’s face, and all it does is make Louis extremely flustered.

“No, I meant, I mean, you” he stops talking realizing he’s making no sense, but Harry seems to understand what he meant well enough, and his face falls, smile faltering. Louis misses it already.

“Oh. We can stay here then, I don’t mind” he says quickly, and Louis would wonder whether he’s just being his usual nice self, except… except he sounds eager, looks it too.

But maybe he’s just going crazy.

“I mean, there’s no point in going, if I’ll just be by myself there, and you’ll be alone here…Better to stick together right?”

No, Louis thinks, he definitely sounds eager, and he doesn’t think that was a rhetorical question either, because Harry is looking at him expectantly, and startled he hurries to answer, “oh yeah, okay” he agrees, nodding, watching the way Harry’s shoulder slump as he lets out a deep sigh. The reaction makes Louis’ tummy feel funny.

Seemingly reassured, Harry leans forward, eyes dancing as he watches Louis.

“What?” he asks self-consciously.

“Nothing” he grins, “tell me something about yourself”

“What?” he repeats, aware that he probably looks a bit ridiculous, with his mouth gaping open in surprise.

“Go on” Harry insists grinning, and really Louis loves his smile, but he wishes that it wouldn’t make him feel so…nervous and fidgety. “Tell me”.

Louis shrugs; looking down at his hands, “I don’t really know what to say…” he trails off. What could he possible tell Harry about himself that wouldn’t send him running away and back to his friends? Not much, he thinks sadly.

“Well… how old are you?”

Louis looks up, surprised that that’s the first question Harry would ask. He finds the green eyes set on him, and blushes looking back down, eyes focusing on the dark gray carpet.

“17” he answers quietly, eyes snapping back up at Harry’s unexpected groan, “how come everyone’s 17 already?” he whines, and there’s an actual pout on his face.

Louis smiles, “aren’t you?” he asks, though he’s pretty sure of the answer, he knows when Harry’s birthday is, the whole school knows when his birthday is.

“No… not yet. Almost though” he finishes, expression lifting at the thought, “only a few more days… it’s the first of February” he adds at Louis’ expectant face.

Louis nods, satisfied that he couldn’t be called a creep if he let slip that he knew Harry’s birthday now.

“When’s your birthday?” Harry asks suddenly, as if the question had just popped into his mind.

“Twenty-fourth of December”

“Christmas Eve! That’s so cool” Harry smiles happily at him.

Shrugging and trying his best not to stare too much, he says quietly, “it’s usually more about Christmas than my birthday though” he looks up at Harry, and seeing the sympathetic expression on his face he hurries to add, “I don’t mind it really. I like Christmas, it’s my favourite time of the year” Louis watches pleased as his words make a smile grow on Harry’s face.

“Mine too! Best time of the year..” he sighs wistfully.

“What are you doing for your birthday then?” Louis asks, wanting to keep the conversation going.

Lips pursed in thought, Harry shrugs, “I’m not sure yet. Niall wants to throw a party though” he rolls his eyes, “everything is an excuse to have a party for Niall.”

Louis smiles, “that’s nice”

“You’d come, wouldn’t you?” Harry chirps, grinning cheekily at him.

“Uh…” Louis blushes, “I don’t know.”

“What?” Harry frowns, “why not?”

“Parties are not really my thing…” Louis explains sadly. Harry would get tired of him soon, Louis’ sure, he’s just so…boring.

“You went to Ed’s” Harry says accusingly, and Louis looks down, unable to look at the big and betrayed looking eyes any longer.

“Zayn kinda dragged me to that one” he lifts one shoulder despondently.

“So… you only went because of Zayn?”

“Pretty much” Louis answers, looking out the window. It’s still snowing.

“Oh”

Louis looks back at Harry. His lips are pursed, and his eyebrows are furrowed, and he just looks so pretty all sulky like that, that Louis is sure his heart misses a few necessary beats.

“Harry?” Louis leans forward, confused as to why Harry looks so moody all of a sudden.

“What is it?”

Harry shrugs, refusing to speak. Louis is about to question him again when the loud ring of the bell sounds, shattering their little quiet bubble.

The sudden noise makes Louis jump backwards. He looks at a still sullen Harry and feels suddenly awkward. Not knowing what to say he picks up his bag with every intention of running away as fast as he can without actually running.

His thoughts must be written clearly on his face, because Harry leans forward, still sat down, and hooks his fingers on Louis’ loop belt. Louis hopes the little catch in his breath wasn’t noticeable.

“Wait, Lou. Can I have your number?” Harry asks, looking up at him from under his eyelashes as if Louis would even think to say no to him.

With a jerky nod, mostly because of the nickname, he takes Harry’s phone from him smiling briefly at the background picture. He puts his number in and gives the phone back to Harry, willing away the warmth in his cheeks.

“What do you have now?” Harry asks, and Louis sends him a funny look, wondering how Harry’s mood could change so quickly.

“Philosophy”

Harry jumps to his feet, picking up his bag, “I’ll walk you”.

They walk towards his classroom in silence and it’s only when they arrive that Harry speaks, “you know, it doesn’t surprise me, that you take philosophy.”

Louis doesn’t say anything, unsure as to whether Harry means that as a good or a bad thing.

With a dimpled smile and a cheerful “see you later” thrown over his shoulder, Harry leaves Louis, disappearing in between the other students seconds later.

Louis doesn’t speak much for the rest of the day, oblivious to the curious looks Zayn sends him on the way home.

The whole situation seems surreal, he’s not sure whether all of it actually happened, or if he’s really just gone crazy.

The latter does seem more likely.

He sits in the living room with his family, later that evening. They watch tv while Louis reads a book sat on the corner of the couch with Phoebe slumped against him.

The noise coming from the television and the sound of his sisters’ laughter don’t distract him from his reading. It’s actually quite comforting, knowing they are there with him.

The buzzing of his phone takes him by surprise, and he takes it out carefully, as not to jostle the dozing Phoebe too much, and wondering what Zayn could want.

His heart feels like it stops for a couple of seconds before re-starting twice as fast when he sees the unknown number. He knows who it is immediately.

/Hi Lou, this is Harry/

His fingers are shaking, he notices, as he hits the reply button.

/Hey Harry/

He doesn’t know what else to say, he stares at the words for what feels like a whole hour, before hitting send, shoulders slumping in relief at getting it over with.

/Are you busy?/

Louis actually laughs at that, though quietly. He’s pretty sure his definition of busy differs a lot from Harry’s.

/Not really, what’s up?/

/Nothing, just wanted to talk. I’m bored./

Louis stares at the screen.

/What about?/

A second after he hits send he regrets it. God, he’s so awkward.

/Don’t know. What are you doing?/

Tapping his fingers nervously on the side of his phone, he wonders what to tell Harry, wishing he had something more interesting to say.

He must spend a bit too long thinking, because soon his phone is buzzing in his hands once again.

/Lou? You sure you’re not busy?/

And then, /tell me if I’m interrupting./

/You’re not, I’m just watching the telly with my sisters./

/You have sisters? How many? How old are they?/

Louis blinks astonished at all the questions.

/4. They’re all younger than me./

/What are they called?/

/Lottie is the oldest, she’s 11. Then there’s Fiz who’s 9 and the twins Daisy and Phoebe, they’re 7./

He smiles. Texting Harry is so much easier than actually speaking to him.

/Aw, that’s so cute Lou! Do you get on well?/

/Yes, they’re all really lovely, we’re quite close/

He’s not sure how else to explain his relationship with his sisters. It would require a better way with words than he has.

/That’s good. I’ve an older sister, we’re very close too, but she’s left for uni, so I miss her a lot./

Louis smiles fondly.

“Louis?”

Louis looks up, meeting his mum’s curious gaze, “yeah?”

His mum looks at him for a few seconds, and Louis knows she’s wondering whether she should even ask.

“Can you put Phoebe in bed please?” she says instead, and Louis mentally sighs his relief. He’s close with his mum, but that doesn’t mean he’d blush any less when the words ‘Harry Styles’ came out of his mouth.

He nods, and swiftly picks up the girl, taking her upstairs and carefully setting her down in her bed. She rolls to her side as soon as he does so, hand curling into the crook of her neck.

Smiling he kisses her hair, wishing her a quiet ‘g’night’ before retreating into his own bedroom.

He lays in bed, going back to his book, and forgets all about his phone until much later, when it buzzes for one last time that day.

/Good night Lou. See you tomorrow./


	5. Touch Pt 2

Touch Pt 2

The next day Louis wakes up to the sound of his alarm blaring, and with a resigned sigh, he gets up to get ready for school.

It’s only when he’s staring at his reflection in the mirror, toothbrush hanging half way out of his mouth, that he remembers his conversation with Harry last night.

Breath hitching, he chokes on minty foam as he hurries out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, frantically searching for his phone.  
“C’mon” he mumbles unintelligibly.  
He shakes out his covers, listening for the soft thud of the phone as it falls on the carpeted floor. Snatching it up quickly, he checks his messages, gulping down a breath of surprise and some more foam. The proof is right there, he definitely didn’t dream his conversation with Harry.

He stares at the phone in his hand, not quite believing his eyes, and yelps surprised when the thing comes to life, buzzing away and tickling the palm of his hand.

‘Good morning Lou!’

He stares down at the screen for a few seconds more before a slightly strangled sound escapes his throat, and he promptly drops the phone for the second time that day.

It takes him a minute to calm down. He’s being stupid, he decides, before reluctantly leaving the phone behind and going back to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

Once he’s back in his room, and his heart has calmed down, he goes back to his phone. He takes a deep breath before looking down at it and immediately chides himself for it. It’s only a good morning message, Harry could very well send one to all of his friends, what with Harry being…Harry.

Still that would mean they’re friends right?

‘Good morning’

He chucks the phone away as soon as he hits send, glaring at his trembling fingers, and hating how hot his cheeks feel. He’s ridiculous. He hurries downstairs to have breakfast, before he ends up being late.

His sisters are sat half asleep around the table, but they all wish him sleepy good mornings once he enters the kitchen.

He eats quickly, offering to drop off some of the girls for his mum who’s looking a bit worse for wear this morning. She smiles tiredly at him, but refuses gently, leaning down to kiss the top of his head in thanks.

He drives the short distance to Zayn’s house, barely waiting a minute before the boy is coming out of the house, walking quickly towards the car, to get out of the cold. It’s is still snowing gently, not enough to settle yet, but Louis doesn’t doubt that’ll change soon.  
“Morning Lou” Zayn greets him, quickly closing the door behind him. Louis smiles his greeting, shivering at the cold air Zayn brought in with him. They drive in silence for a couple of minutes, and Louis is almost positive Zayn’s fallen asleep next to him, when the boy pipes up with a concerned expression.  
“Are you ok Lou?”  
Louis looks at him quickly before averting his gaze back to the road. Traffic is slow, due to the weather, everybody being extra cautious.  
“Yes, I’m…”  
“Lou” Zayn cuts him off before he can think of how to finish his sentence. Good? Fine? Extremely freaking nervous?  
“It’s just…I’ve been talking…I’ve been talking to Harry” the words slip out of him together with the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He doesn’t know why he didn’t tell Zayn sooner. He just didn’t.  
“Harry, like, Harry Styles?”   
Louis doesn’t need to look at Zayn to know his eyebrows are half raised, half knit in a way Louis can never imitate.   
Louis nods jerkily, “yeah, we – he spent lunch with me yesterday”  
He catches a glimpse of the growing smile Zayn’s sending him, “you guys had lunch together?!” he sounds delighted now, and it makes Louis’ cheeks burn.  
“Not like that!” he defends quickly, “don’t make it sound like that, we didn’t have lunch together. We just.. we just spent lunch time… together” he trails off looking sideways quickly, seeing Zayn waggling his eyebrows at him, before setting his eyes back on the road, stomach fluttering because, yeah, that doesn’t sound any better either.

Zayn is still grinning gleefully next to him, so Louis shuts his mouth, determined not to say anything else on the matter for now.  
“And then we texted each other last night” it escapes his lips without his permission.

Zayns cackles with laughter next to him, and Louis can’t help but smile, mouth curling up slightly at the corners.

At registration they’re told they have an assembly that morning, so in midst of a lot of groaning and whining they shuffle their way into the hall, taking their seat in the back as it is customary for sixth formers.

Louis spots Zayn easily, apparently not even people taking exams are spared from the painfully boring assemblies. Unsurprisingly his eyes fall on a head of shaggy dark brown hair next. This is the only thing that makes assemblies bearable to him, the fact that he can just stare at Harry and completely ignore whatever the guest the school principal has invited in this time, is saying.

He shifts a bit in his seat, bothered by how the hard plastic chairs are put so close together, which always leaves him squished in the middle of other two students who don’t seem to realise he’s there (he always leaves assembly rubbing his sides, where he’s been hit by a stray elbow or two) while he sits awkwardly, arms stiff and shoulders hunched inwards as he tries not to graze his arm against the person sitting next to him. It always makes his cheeks flame with embarrassment and self consciousness. He hates that.

It’s easy to ignore the sound of their principal chattering on about school events and whatever else she likes to talk about (school uniform seems to be a popular subject, from what Louis has managed to catch).

It’s however harder to ignore the girl sitting next to him, Amanda…something. She has abandoned all pretences of paying attention, and instead swerves around in her seat to chat in what they think are whispers, to the girl sitting next to her. Louis receives a face full of hair as she does. It feels stiff (probably due to all the hair products) and as he shakes it off, he remembers why it is that he doesn’t like girls.

He catches the warning look the teacher sitting at the end of their row of seats throws them, but Amanda remains oblivious, blabbering on to her friend in loud whispers.

Feeling embarrassed for them (since they seem to have no shame) he looks away, eyes falling on Harry once again.

The boy is very obviously not paying attention either, looking around the place as if he’s in search of something.

His stomach swoops in nervously, though a second later he sighs deflated, seeing Harry spot Liam, who is sitting a few rows in front of Louis, and all the way to the right. 

Before he can feel stupid about being so hopeful, he sees Harry’s glance bypassing Liam with just a distracted smile sent his way, eyes still looking until they meet Louis’ who immediately looks down, heart beating fast. His hands are trembling where they’re perched on his lap, and his stomach is fluttering at the realisation that this time Harry didn’t just look through him, as he’d done before, but at him.

Unknowingly, his eyes go back to Harry, who to his surprise, is still looking at him, neck craned in what must be a painful position, and smile widening once he sees that Louis’ attention is back on him. Nervously Louis smiles back at him, cheeks warming at the sight of Harry beaming.

There’s a hushed hiss of “Harry Styles, turn around!” that breaks their gaze. With a reluctant sigh, Harry turns back forwards, though not before sending Louis a cheeky wink over his shoulder.

Louis looks back down, bringing his cold hands up to his cheeks in hopes of cooling them down, and ignoring the excited whisper of “he was looking at me!” next to him and their teacher’s “hush ladies!”

Surprisingly, Harry is already there when he gets to English later that day. He’s once again sitting in Zayn’s usual seat, and Louis stops for a second, still surprised by Harry’s presence. Someone bumps lightly into him, and he scuttles away to his seat with a mumbled apology, face painfully red.

Harry greets him with a lopsided smile, but embarrassed, Louis can’t say much more than a murmured ‘hey’ looking down at his lap, wishing his skin would do a better job of covering up his blushes.   
“Lou? You okay?” Harry leans towards him, hand resting on the edge of Louis’ desk.  
Louis looks at it; Harry has great hands, big and soft looking, fingers long and nimble. Louis really wants to hold them, or for them to hold him. He’d settle for either.

He looks up startled, when Harry clears his throat, there’s amusement playing on his face, and Louis’ barely cooled down cheeks warm up again. Louis only hopes it doesn’t look as obvious as it feels.  
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.. what happened to your hand anyway?” he looks pointedly at the white bandage wrapped around Harry’s left wrist.  
“Oh” he looks surprised at the sight of his own bandaged wrist, as if he’d forgotten it was there, “I hurt it at football practice”   
Louis frowns, “does that happen a lot?”  
“What?”  
“You getting hurt?” he wonders whether the concern on his voice is too obvious.  
“Sometimes, not really” he seems pleased by the fact, which Louis can’t exactly understand.

Their teacher walks in then, and Louis tries to focus on the lesson as he usually does. He finds it a lot harder though, with Harry sitting so close by. He is painfully aware of the younger boy’s every move, is often distracted by Harry calling out his name softly, leaning in so close, Louis can feel his radiating warmth, the minty smell of tic-tacs invading his senses.

By the end of the lesson, he feels a bit drunk.

They walk out together, and they are barely out of the classroom when Harry is whisked away by one of his friends, calling out a loud “see you later Lou!” at Louis who waves him away, with a heavy heart.

Noticing the looks he’s getting he turns away, head bent down, telling himself he should be grateful. He’d never thought he would even get to be friends with Harry, which he supposes they kind of are now, so he should just stop wanting things he can never have, and enjoy their odd friendship while it lasts.

He barely manages to stay awake for his next lesson, which is business, and his book remains empty, just like his English book stayed, page blank with the exception of a few doodles on the margin. They weren’t very good, and they made him miss Zayn a little bit.

He couldn’t wait for the end of the year, when he’d finally be able to drop the subject.

Louis texts Zayn at lunch, because it’s break and even though Zayn can’t leave the art room, this is still his lunch. He asks him how his painting is going and receives a ‘the painting is fine, Ms Henley won’t be for much longer, if she keeps breathing down my neck’ that makes him laugh, though he immediately tries to quieten it, cringing at how loud it sounds in the empty corridor.

“Who are you texting?” Louis jumps feeling someone’s – Harry’s fingers poking his side, and turns around, surprised to see him standing next to him, grinning.  
“Hey” he finally greets, leaning down to give Louis an awkward hug, since he’s still sitting down.

Louis flushes all the way up to his hairline. Shocked at the sudden contact, he barely has any time to return the hug, before Harry is pulling away, dropping his bag on the floor and making himself comfortable in front of Louis, as if sitting there with Louis was something he did everyday.

“So, who’re you talking to?” he asks again once he’s situated himself, lunch in hands.  
“Oh!” Louis startles, having forgotten about Harry’s question. He clears his throat and wills the blush away unsuccessfully, “just Zayn, I don’t think he’s having the time of his life being stuck with Ms Henley all day, to be honest”  
Harry laughs “poor guy”  
“Yeah” Louis agrees quietly, “I can’t wait for it to be finished”  
Harry looks up curiously, “his exam?” Louis nods.  
“What are you trying to get rid of me already?” he asks, face serious for exactly three seconds before his cheeks dimple into a smile again.  
“No! I mean, of course not” he wrings his hands nervously, “I just miss him, that’s all”.

Harry nods, but there’s a frown on his face, and Louis doesn’t like it, “how are things with you then?” he asks, trying to distract the sulking boy, he dislikes Harry’s frowns almost as much as he dislikes his own blushes.

“Not bad” he hesitates, checking his watch, “actually I was wondering. Did you want to come over to the hall? My friends kind of want to meet you”  
“Oh, I –“ he looks down, heart clenching uncomfortably at the thought of meeting Harry’s friends, Harry’s popular, outgoing, eagerly-watched-by-the-whole-school-population friends. He thinks there must be something wrong with the school heating. He can still see the fluffy snow falling outside, but he feels hot.

“Lou?” he continues when Louis doesn’t answer “it’s okay if you don’t want to go”  
Louis swallows with some effort, “no, it’s. You can go if you want” he reassures the younger boy, he doesn’t want him to feel like he has to stay here, he probably misses his friends and is sick of the quiet, and of Louis.   
“I mean, you don’t have to stay here”  
“Lou,”  
“You must want to spend time with your friends”  
“Louis,”  
“You must be tired of me already –“  
“Lou!”  
Louis looks up at him startled, feeling hot and awkward and so tense his shoulders hurt.  
Harry leans forward and all Louis can think about is how beautiful his eyes are.  
“You’re my friend too”  
“Really?” Harry nods happily “Yes! And of course I’m not tired of you, you silly boy” he smiles tenderly, “come here” he pulls Louis into a hug, both of them leaning forward a bit and meeting in the middle. Immediately Louis feels his heart rate speed up, and his stomach swooping, and he hopes Harry can’t tell, and he hopes he doesn’t smell sweaty, and he hopes he’s not shaking, and then he pushes those thought away determined to enjoy the hug. He feels the tip of Harry’s nose on his neck, and feels the shiver going down his back pleasantly. He rests his forehead on Harry’s shoulder and they stay like that for a few minutes.  
“So, you’ll stay?” Louis voice is muffled against the fabric of Harry’s jumper, and though Harry doesn’t answer, Louis can feel him nodding.  
“Are you sure? You can – “  
Harry pulls away then to look him in the eyes and cuts in, “Lou” he shakes his head, “I’m sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the long wait everyone, hope you bear with me while I get the last chapter out.


	6. Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took long. I'm sorry. Hope it was worth the wait.

To Louis’ utter amazement, Thursday went much like Wednesday did, with Harry glued to his side whenever he had any free time or when his friends weren’t pulling him away. He even took to texting Louis a couple of times during the day when they were in separate lessons.

Louis spent most of the day with his stomach fluttering and his cheeks glowing.

 

Harry finds him in his corridor. It’s their last period of the day and Louis has a free lesson.

“Hey Lou” Harry greets him with a hand on his shoulder.

Louis looks up from his book, lips immediately pulling into a smile. It’s a bit embarrassing that he can never not smile when he sees Harry, it makes him feel a bit more like his eleven year old sister than any seventeen year old guy should.

“Hi Harry” he answers shyly, flicking his fringe off his face.

“Have I told you that I really like your glasses?” Harry asks him as he makes himself comfortable in front of Louis.

“Thanks” Louis says, looking down to hide his small smile along with the colouring of his cheeks.

“So what are you doing?”

Louis shrugs, self-consciously showing him the cover of his book.

“Is it good?”

Louis wrinkles his nose.

“That bad?” Harry laughs, and Louis can’t help but laugh along.

He nods though, because it’s true, “Lottie recommended it to me”

“Your little sister?”

“Yes” Louis answers smiling because Harry remembers, “it’s a bit more girly and dramatic than I’d like”

Harry laughs, it’s easy to make him laugh.

“That’s probably because she’s an eleven year old girl”

Louis smiles, agreeing “probably”

“So” Harry starts and Louis looks at him, noticing for the first time that Harry is fidgeting; not much, but he is playing with his finger and worrying his bottom lip, and that’s enough to tell Louis that something’s wrong.

“What is it Haz?” Is something wrong?”

He wonders nervously if this is some kind of break up scene for friends, wonders if Harry is finally bored of him like he knew he would be. Suddenly he’s the one fidgeting.

“No, no” Harry says quickly, “there’s nothing wrong. I was just wondering if you’d come somewhere with me”

Louis tilts his head curiously, “where?”

“Just to the music department? Maybe?” Louis’ never heard Harry sound so unsure, a hopeful expression on his endearing face that makes Louis want to say yes immediately.

“Why?” he asks instead, hesitant.

Harry shrugs, “no reason, I just thought, you know, I could play you something”

Louis looks at Harry surprised. He’s so tempted he literally has to press his lips together to stop himself from agreeing.

“Will there – are you meeting your friends there?”

Harry gives him a searching look that shows very clearly that he sees through Louis’ would-be casual question.

“No. Just us…will you come?”

Still hesitant, Louis nods, being awarded with Harry’s beaming face. Louis feels his heart clench; Harry’s so gorgeous, it makes Louis painfully aware of his own flaws.

“Yes!” Harry cheers, making Louis blush at the younger boy’s enthusiasm.

Harry picks up both their bags before grabbing Louis by the hand, taking him towards the music department.

Louis throws a last look at his quiet, little safe place, before they turn a corner and it’s out of his sight.

He swallows nervously, breath getting stuck in his throat when he realises Harry is still holding his hand. His stomach flutters and his face feels hot but he squeezes his fingers around Harry’s larger hand, remembering when he’d wished to hold it just the day before. He never though it would happen.

“Here” Harry says once they arrive, opening the door for them and motioning for Louis to go in.

To Louis’ relief, there’s no one inside. The room to his surprise is quite small and dark with no windows.

“This isn’t really a classroom; it’s just for when we need to practice alone without all the noise. There’re a couple more rooms like this” Harry explains as they take a seat on the bench in front of the piano, which is the only instrument in the room besides an acoustic guitar set on the corner.

“I’m just learning the piano” Harry tells him, “I prefer singing, but it’s easier when you can play at least one instrument.”

Louis nods, smiling at the excitement in the boy’s voice. It’s obvious that this is something he’s passionate about.

Louis bumps his shoulder against Harry’s; an encouraging gesture, and Harry plays him a couple of songs, fingers stuttering over the keys, though he doesn’t seem to care, persevering through it all the way until the end.

When he finishes, he turns to Louis, smiling sheepishly, “I’m not really that good”

“Well you just started” Louis smiles gently, and he’s barely aware of what he’s doing, gaze locked into Harry’s, but he reaches out for the keys, and starts playing, applying just the amount of pressure needed to be heard.

Harry’s attention is snapped toward the sound, seeing Louis’s hands moving fluently over white and black keys, melody flowing.

“You play!” he says delightedly, and Louis looks down embarrassed.

“A bit” he answers modestly, and Harry huffs out a laugh, “that’s more than a bit Lou”

Louis shrugs, embarrassed.

“Hey, I know that song!” Harry says, eyes lighting up, “that’s ‘Yellow’ right? By ‘Coldplay’?”

Louis nods, “yeah, it’s one of my favourite songs”

Louis doesn’t tell him the song has always made him think of him.

Harry joins in with the lyrics, and Louis feels the goose bumps spreading down his arms. He shivers, Harry’s voice is so, so lovely, low and raspy and pleasant.

They stay in silence when the song ends, sides pressed together. Louis sets his clammy hands down on his lap.

“Lou?”

“Hm?” Louis turns to look at Harry, and they are so close Louis can smell the sweet-minty smell of the tic-tacs Harry always seems to have, and something more concentrated, lemon-y, that Louis thinks comes from Harry’s hair.

His hands shake when he realises Harry’s face is moving closer, so slow Louis doubts it’s happening, but it is, and Louis can’t look away from his eyes, they look very green in this light, and this close, Louis can see flecks in his eyes that are so light they are almost white.

He’s too close then, and Louis drops his gaze, eyes fluttering close, face warm, and he feels Harry’s lips brushing against his, so lightly he could have imagined it. There’s the sound of breath hitching, and as he realises the sound came from Harry, he leans forward, seeking the contact again.

It’s exhilarating. Louis feels like he’s on sensory overload, aware of all the places they’re touching, from shoulders to knees. He can hear his heart beating in his ears making him lightheaded, can feel Harry pressing more firmly against him, and his taste is intoxicating. There’s adrenaline coursing through his body as if he’d been running, except he hasn’t, and this feels a lot more like flying.

It takes him a few seconds to blink his eyes open again when they separate, licking his lips nervously before gathering enough courage to look back up at Harry.

Harry’s beaming.

Later when the bell rings signalling the of the day, Harry walks him towards his form for registration, and Louis is blissfully unaware of the curious looks and excited whispers following them, too preoccupied with the feeling of Harry’s hand enveloping his, and the way Harry is looking at him, as if there was nothing he’d rather be doing then just walking with Louis.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Harry asks, hopeful, as if he didn’t know the answer.

Louis nods, blushing pink when Harry leans down to kiss his forehead, giving his hand a last squeeze before vanishing in midst of the other students.

Instead of pulling out a book to read as he usually did to wait for the last ten minutes of school to pass, he simply stares dreamily out the window, smiling at the white fluffy snow falling outside.

He’s barely aware of driving Zayn home and the curious looks his friend throws him, barely aware of getting home and kissing his mum and sisters hello. He only comes back to reality when he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket, seeing Harry’s name on the skin.

He blushes at the message, ‘Cant wait to see you again’, hiding his giddy smile into his hands even though there’s no one around to see it, and it’s with reluctance that he leaves his phone behind once his mum calls him down for dinner.

Fridays are slow days usually, but today, the hours seem to drag by. He spends his lessons tapping his fingers on his right knee, and his foot on the ground,(blushing at the dirty glares this gets him) impatiently waiting for lunch, when he’ll see Harry again.

Louis had seen him throughout the day, in the corridors in between lessons, but he’d been surrounded by his friends, so Louis had shied away before Harry could see him, and for the hundredth time, Louis had wished he was braver, because really all he wants right now is to hold Harry’s hand again.

He stares at the white board unhappily, he scribbles down some notes, before doodling a little dragon at the margin of his book, flames coming out of it’s mouth and setting fire to the lazy notes.

When he leaves business, he has no idea what topic they were discussing. He wonders if he should start praying for a miracle right now, because he doesn’t see himself passing his business exam coming up in March.

Harry arrives barely seconds after Louis’s settled down, eyes staring at the open page of his book without taking anything in. Louis looks up at him happily, before squeaking in surprise as Harry leans down to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Oh!” he says breathlessly and Harry grins down at him.

“Hey Lou, you okay?” he sits down, reaching out for Louis’ hand and tangling their fingers together.

Louis bites his lip to hide his smile, “yeah.. you?”

Harry only grins as an answer, and he looks so happy, Louis feels his heart flutter.

“New book?”

Louis nods shyly, “I gave up on the other one. I don’t think I’ve ever not finished a book before” he says thoughtfully.

Harry offers him half of his sandwich; cheese and pickles, and Louis accepts it with a smile.

“You’re saying you’ve never found a book so boring that you just couldn’t bare to keep reading it?” he sounds incredulous now, and also a bit teasing, mouth curling up at the corners.

Louis shakes his head, “I spend a lot of time reading summaries”

Harry laughs, and Louis doesn’t even try to stop his smile.

“So you only take the ones you’re sure you’re gonna like?”

Louis nods, “the ones that make me curious”

“It’s weird, cause I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the library”

Louis shrugs, albeit sadly, “well, we didn’t really know each other before this week”

It’s half true anyway.

“But we are friends now” he says, giving Louis a searching look.

“Yeah” Louis agrees, giving Harry’s hand a squeeze.

Harry smiles, but there’s something in his eyes that make Louis think he’s nervous.

“Actually Lou” he starts, though the ringing of the bell cuts him off before he can go any further.

“What is it Haz?”

Harry sighs, “I’ll tell you later okay?”

Louis looks at him curiously, head tilted to the side, before nodding, “okay”

Harry stands up, back to smiling and picks up both of their bags, offering Louis his hand.

“I’ll take it” Louis says, reaching out for his bag, but Harry only hitches it up his shoulder, shaking his head teasingly, and wiggling his fingers at Louis, who smiles in amusement, cheeks pinking, setting his hand on Harry’s larger one.

“How’s your wrist?” he asks, eyeing the still wrapped limb.

“It’s alright” Harry smiles, “I’ve had way worse”

Louis looks at him wide-eyes, and Harry bursts out laughing.

“No reason to look so horrified Lou” he chuckles, “it’s not so bad. It’s cute that you’re worried about me though” he says nudging his side, and Louis blushes looking down at his shoes.

“I’ll see you later?” Harry asks when they arrive at the Louis’ classroom door, and Louis nods self-consciously, aware of the looks they’re getting.

“Hey” Harry says ducking down to look him in the eye, “no hiding” he chides, smiling crookedly, leaning in to kiss his cheek, and giving Louis his bag back, before leaving to go to his own lesson.

He calms down after that, not as nervous or as anxious as before now that he’s not looking forward to a specific point in time. As soon as he relaxes, the last few hours go by fairly quickly.

He gets a text from Zayn telling him he’s finally finished with his exam and is waiting for him outside, by Louis’ car. He smiles down at it, walking through the busy hall with his eyes stuck on the screen as he types a quick text back. It’s only the sound of a familiar voice that has his gaze snapping up to see Harry, who’s turned away from his group of friends, hand waving him over.

“Louis!”

Immediately, his legs feel as heavy as concrete, and his heart beats wildly in his chest with the urge to flee.

Harry’s not the only one looking at Louis, his friends are too, looking past Harry and at the boy who has stolen Harry’s company for the past week. The looks are not angry or accusing, but Louis feels guilty anyway, looking down at the ground.

He sees one of Harry’s friends leaning in to say something to Harry, whose face pinches up in an unhappy frown. His face burns in embarrassment as he wonders what the boy had said about him. Probably something about how weird he is, standing there, muted and frozen, staring with wide eyes at Harry’s once smiling face, wishing Harry would stop calling out his name, in front of everyone.

“Lou?” he both looks and sounds confused now, and Louis wants nothing more than to go up to Harry and pull him into a reassuring hug.

He takes a step back and sees Harry’s face falling as he realises what’s happening.

Louis turns around and flees.

He’s not proud of it, but the need to run away doesn’t fade until he’s in his car, half-way home.

“Lou? What is it? What happened?” Zayn asks him quietly, once they’re parked outside his house.

“I… I messed up Z”

Zayn’s face scrunches up in sympathy, “Lou…”

Louis shakes his head, “I did, Zayn, I’m just…I’m just not…”

“What?”

He shakes his head again, “lets, lets not talk about this”, he swallows, face hot, though this time it’s not because of a blush, but because of the beginning of tears.

“I’ll see you on Monday yeah?”

Zayns sighs, but agrees, “alright. Don’t beat yourself up about this, whatever this is okay?”

Louis jerks his head in a semblance of a nod, though they both know it is not entirely truthful.

With one last concerned look, Zayn hops out of the car, leaving Louis to take a deep breath, blinking quickly to disband the forming tears.

He walks straight up to his room, when he arrives home, barely breathing out a greeting to his mum and sisters, and he stays there for most of the week-end, deciding that if he can’t interact with other humans, he shouldn’t have to face them either.

He ignores his mum knocking on his door and asking if he wants to talk, ignores his younger sisters when they ask him if he wants to play with them. Ignores the continuing ringing and beeping of his phone.

He reads his books in hopes of it being a distraction, but not even amazing fantasy worlds or brave heroes can take his mind off his own troubles.

The thing is, he’s so ashamed, so embarrassed, feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. He wishes he could be better, less himself. He thinks Harry deserves that, someone better, someone just as amazing as he is.

His musings are interrupted by a knock at the door, and though he doesn’t want to talk to anyone, he can’t bear to tell any of his sisters or his mum to go away.

“Yeah?” he asks, looking up to see Lottie as she peeks inside the room, eyes finding Louis where he’s curled up on the corner of his bed.

“Hey Lou, can I come in?”

Louis nods, watching as she climbs on the bed next to him.

“You okay?” he asks her, one arm around her shoulder to bring her closer.

“Are you?” she counters, big, wise blue eyes staring up at him.

Louis smiles sadly, “yeah, I’m okay”

She looks at him reproachfully, “spill it Lou. What happened? You’ve been all happy and smiley all week, and now you’re just…not”

So he tells her, the whole story, and at the end his mouth if pursed and his face is red with the reminder.

“Lou” she starts looking at him sadly, “that’s not the end of the world, you know. Mum is forever calling me a drama queen, but I think that title should go to you really”

Louis stares at her, “what do you mean?”

“I mean, you have to learn how to let things go. Okay so maybe what happened was a bit embarrassing. Do you have any idea, how many times I’ve tripped, or dropped things, or answered questions wrong in front of a whole bunch of people?”

Louis chuckles weakly, not knowing what to say.

“Trust me on this” she continues, “by tomorrow nobody is going to even remember anything, except maybe you, unless you let it go”

“Let it go” he repeats, mostly to himself.

“Yep” she says, leaning up to kiss his cheek, before hopping out of bed towards the door, “just stop being so paranoid alright? The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know?” she grins at him, before walking out, closing the door behind her with more force than she probably meant to use.

Maybe she’s right, he thinks to himself, before rolling his eyes. Of course she’s right. It doesn’t make it any easier, but she is. He’d find it annoying, how often his eleven year old sister is right about things, if it wasn’t for the fact that he admires it, maybe even envies it a little.

He can try, he thinks, the words let it go roaming around in his mind as he drifts off to sleep.

 

He’s a wreck on Monday morning, poking himself in the eye twice before he manages to put his contacts in. He ignores the buzzing of his phone; he’s saving his courage for something more important.

The drive to school is tense. His nerves must be contagious because Zayn, bless him, looks just as fidgety as Louis feels.

“This has something to with Harry, right?” he asks.

Louis nods his head with a little jerk, the lump in his throat not allowing him to speak.

“He didn’t do anything, right?”

Louis shakes his head frantically, taking a deep breath and trying not to hyperventilate as he parks the car in the school parking lot, which is crowded with students. Which is…great. Really.

Louis feels sick.

There’s a beat of silence, and then –

“Would you stop freaking out! You’re making me nervous, and I don’t even know what’s going on!”

Louis would spare Zayn an apologetic glance, but his eyes are glued on the familiar form of Harry, standing not very far away, with Niall and Liam by his side, very obviously waiting for him.

He swallows nervously, his mouth tastes funny. What is that that Lottie had said again?

Let it go. Right.

“C’mon” he mutters to a curious looking Zayn, opening his door, and slowly stepping out of the car.

“Lou!” Harry calls out, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He has a nervous sort of smile on his face, and it comforts Louis a little, to know he’s not the only one who’s nervous. The fact that he doesn’t seem mad about Louis ignoring his texts, also is a source of relief.

He ignores the curious looks he’s getting from other students, and forces himself to focus on Harry. He’s good at that.

This time instead of turning away, he starts walking towards Harry, one step after the other, stomach fluttering madly at the smile that grows wider on Harry’s face the closer he gets, and god he’s so beautiful.

Slightly blinded by the brilliance of Harry’s beaming face, Louis’ vision blurs around the edges, until Harry is all he sees, and then he’s there, chests touching, with Harry’s arms around him, and Louis breathes him in, the citrus-like smell coming from his hair, the minty smell of his tic-tacs stuck in his clothes.

“I’m sorry Haz, I’m sorry” he pushes out past the lump in his throat, lips brushing the side of Harry’s neck.

“’Tis okay” Harry says, voice quiet, tone happy.

Over Harry’s shoulder, Louis’ gaze falls on Niall, who’s looking back at him grinning. Louis closes his eyes again, pressing his warm cheek against Harry’s neck, and hears Harry sighing in contentment.

“I really like you Lou” Harry tells him, pulling away just enough to look Louis in the eyes.

Breath stuttering and hands clenching on the skin of Harry’s shoulder, Louis once again remembers his conversation with Lottie.

The world doesn’t revolve around you. People forget. Nobody cares.

Nothing has ever been so reassuring.

In front of Zayn, and Liam, and Niall, and everybody else he smiles brightly up at Harry, gazes locking, and kisses him.


End file.
